


The Daniel and Rodney Snark Fest of Pornographic Doom

by Xela



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: ALL THE CRACK, Crack, Crack Pairing, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other, Trapped, Trapped in the Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-01
Updated: 2012-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-11 04:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/474351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xela/pseuds/Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney and Daniel get trapped in a room that proves the Ancients were really kinky bastards, so are the residents of Atlantis, and they're both going to be scarred for life.  Seriously, therapy forever.  (This is CRACK.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Daniel and Rodney Snark Fest of Pornographic Doom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DragoJustine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragoJustine/gifts).



> I make no excuses for my brain. My recipient said they liked “Plotty fic! Funny fic! Cracky fic! Sexy fic!” Hopefully, I gave a little taste of each. Well, a big taste of the crack, not so much on the plot, but...yeah. It was fun to write! There's a little bit of discontinuity between some of the events mentioned, but we're just going to ignore that—this is crack after all.
> 
> Also, as a disclaimer, Rodney's (and to a lesser extent, Daniel's) lack of sensitivity towards certain groups/people, judgments, and opinions are emphatically not my own.

“We should finish cataloguing all the artifacts. We already got kidnapped, what else could go wrong,” Rodney mimicked mockingly.

“I didn't say that!” his companion snapped.

“You did! You said that and you doomed us! Haven't you been doing this for over ten years? You _know better_ than to say 'what else could go wrong?' or 'we're out of the woods now' or 'that was the worst of it,' or 'the natives of this planet are friendly!' This is all your fault!” They both cringed as a particularly wet sound echoed through the room. “You jinxed us!”

“You're a scientist, Rodney,” Daniel said with a grimace. He kept his gaze focused on Rodney's face, twitching at the movement he could see from the corner of his eye. He. Would. Not. Look. “You don't believe in jinxes.”

“I didn't believe in soul-sucking vampires or little grey men before this project either!” Rodney's eyes started to stray from Daniel's face, focusing over his shoulder before snapping back abruptly, Rodney's face turning bright red. He may have squeaked.

“Look, I'm sure there's a way out of this—” Daniel stopped abruptly. Somehow, he'd looked away and his eyes had fixated on the screen in front of him. Rodney, curious as to what had distracted Daniel so thoroughly, turned around and gaped.

“Ohmygod!” Rodney watched the scene unfolding in front of him, unable to tear his eyes away but desperately wishing he had more willpower.

“Oh _wow_ ,” Daniel marveled. 

“Is that...is that even possible?” Rodney asked, awed. Daniel blushed and shifted from foot-to-foot, because yes. Technically very possible if one was kind of...bendy. “No really, I wonder if Simpson can do that in real life.”

“Why don't you ask her,” Daniel suggested sarcastically. Rodney cocked his head to one side and considered it.

“Do you think she'd demonstrate it for me?” Daniel goggled at Rodney. No, he didn't think Simpson would be willing to demonstrate her, uh, _flexibility_ for McKay.

“Yes Rodney. I'm sure if you asked really nicely she'd love to.”

“Really?” Rodney asked brightly. Daniel shot him a scathing look and McKay deflated. Daniel's attention wandered, trying to find something innocuous to look at, but in a room entirely made of screens showcasing people engaged in their most intimate fantasies, it was difficult. And staring at Rodney McKay had lost its luster ages go.

The scene shifted.

“Um.” Rodney stared in horror as his image (or, to be more accurate, someone else's image of him, his ass did not look like that) filled the room, larger than life.

“You look good in gold hot pants, McKay,” Daniel couldn't help but needle. His jaw dropped when Sheppard entered the picture, hair messy and smile openly inviting. Rodney started spluttering, face turning bright red. “So is this one of yours then?”

Rodney choked on his word (and seriously, if his eyes got any wider they'd pop out of his head) as Sheppard climbed up the bed, muscles rippling sinuously. The Rodney on screen smiled and moaned into Sheppard's kiss, hand traveling down his back to cup his silk-clad ass. Sheppard grinned against Rodney's lips and rubbed against him, hips moving in a graceful roll that rubbed their cocks together.

Daniel turned to look at Rodney, kind of surprised at the sensuality presented in the fantasy. He'd imagined McKay as a more clinical kind of person, but the background of the scene was rich and lush. Maybe Sheppard brought out the softer side of McKay.

“What?” Rodney snapped, his hands shoved under his armpits and shoulders hunched defensively.

Daniel arched an eyebrow. “Sheppard?” he asked with a smirk. “Not bad.” 

Rodney scowled and Daniel could see him gearing up for a big rant. “A man has a right—” Rodney's eyes went round and Daniel spun back to the view screen in time to see Zelenka crawl between the two men, Rodney and John moving apart to accommodate him. Rodney made a strangled, half-angry half-traumatized sound as Zelenka became the center of attention. So not Rodney's fantasy then. 

“We have got to get out of here!” Rodney gasped. Porn-John moaned Radek's name. “Now!”

Rodney spun around, looking for an exit (again), but the room was like a prison home theater with a continuous wrap-around screen, surround sound—and no door. The walls were smooth to the touch, no openings or anything resembling a weakness to be found. They knew this; they'd checked every inch of the room when they'd first gotten trapped and the sundry fantasies of Atlantis's population started playing. As a result, Daniel now knew far more about the desires and kinks of the Atlantis community than was healthy.

“WHOA!” Daniel yelped, cringing back, at the same time Rodney yelled “EW!”

Rodney stared at the picture, horrified. How was that...the physics of such a position were simply not possible. Someone yelped and moaned and the sound of flesh-on-flesh echoed through their small prison. Rodney whimpered, hiding his face in his hands.

“Mersenne primes,” Rodney muttered desperately, trying to find his happy place. He covered his face with his hands. “Stellar nucleosynthesis. The solar mass of an intermediate-mass black hole with a—”

“Can YOU do that in real life, McKay?” Daniel asked, his voice tinged with horrified wonder. Rodney had to do it, had to look and see what was happening. He peeked through a slit in his fingers and wished he had some peroxide to clean out his eyeballs.

“I...I can't...this is...someone is _going to die!_ ” Rodney vowed vehemently. “I swear if I ever figure out whose dream this is, I will end them.”

“Seeing as you and Colonel Sheppard are both speaking Czech...” Daniel pointed out unhelpfully, eyes screwed shut.

“That squirrelly bastard! He's so fired when we get out of here!” Daniel opened his eyes to glance at Rodney.

“I don't think you can fire someone for their fantasies and wow. I really could have done without seeing that.” Daniel had to give Radek points for creativity. He had no idea what the device John wore was, or what it could be used for, but judging by the noises Zelenka was making, it was lots of fun. Porn star Rodney started kissing his way down porn star Radek's chest while porn star John flexed his muscles and fucked Zelenka.

“Make it stop! Make it stop!” Rodney moaned, covering his eyes, but he couldn't block out the sex noises no matter how hard he tried. Oh God, he so didn't need this. 

“I don't know _how_ , Rodney! And trust me, I would if I could!” The room went blissfully black for the few seconds it took the machine to access another fantasy, and they both savored the brief respite. Torture by porn. Really, after ten years with the SGC, Daniel should have seen this coming. He winched. Bad choice of words, very bad.

“This is refreshingly stereotypical,” Rodney commented, sounding relieved as one of the female marines appeared on screen and started getting down and dirty with Colin Farrell.

“Kind of boring,” Daniel agreed blandly. Rodney shot him a look and Daniel frowned. “What? These are people's fantasies right? It's...missionary with a movie star. And after all the stuff we've _already_ seen—”

“Yes, yes. The people on this base are sex-starved perverts, and Jo—Colonel Sheppard features quite heavily in an inordinate number of people's dreams. Can we work on getting OUT of here please?”

Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head. “We've been trapped here for almost an hour, McKay. I don't think we're going to magically stumble upon an escape route out of the blue.”

“Stranger things have happened! This room has to have had a purpose!” Rodney protested, sounding desperate. Daniel was about to reply when the scene shifted again. “And a means of getting Oh Holy Mother of God.”

There, in the Ancient version of Technicolor and larger-than-life, was Richard Woolsey, Atlantis expedition Leader and IOA representative...rubbing against his conference table. Daniel and Rodney watched in mutual horror as dream (God, they really, really hoped it was a dream) Woolsey humped and caressed his most prized possession, murmuring about rich wood grains and even finishes.

“I, uh,” Rodney cleared his throat, “suppose that explains why he had it shipped across two galaxies.” 

“That is disturbing on so many levels,” Daniel muttered. Woolsey crawled up the table, ass waving in the air. “Is there a remote somewhere?” At this point, Daniel didn't care that he sounded as desperate as Rodney. He closed his eyes and tried to project his intense desire to make the images GO AWAY to Atlantis.

“Yes, because I haven't already tried that,” Rodney said grouchily. They stared at each other, once again trying to block out the rest of the room. They both winced as a sound that could only be skin on polished wood came through the hidden speakers.

“Maybe you did it wrong,” Daniel said through gritted teeth. Rodney didn't get a chance to respond because the room started projecting a different fantasy in surround sound HD. Daniel was grateful until the first image flickered on.

Oh no. Daniel felt himself pale; he'd only been on Atlantis a couple of days. He should get a pass on this! And Christ, if this was the dream he thought it was...

“I want you to make me stand up and salute, General.” Yep. That was the one. Daniel's face heated up; he hadn't been this embarrassed since he walked in on Sha're bragging about their wedding night. Rodney's head swiveled to the nearest screen and then back towards him.

“It's, uh.” Daniel tried to think of something, anything, to say.

“And you ragged on ME about the Sheppard fantasy?” Rodney said sarcastically.

“You said that wasn't yours,” Daniel pointed out with a smirk. Rodney blushed and opened his mouth a couple of times before snapping it shut. Daniel marveled how the man had ever managed to get any measure of security clearance.

“Yes, well,” McKay said dismissively. He glanced away but wrenched his eyes closed when he caught sight of a side of General O'Neill better left unseen. They stood awkwardly, the sounds of Daniel's dream burning their ears. A long drawn-out 'Jaaaaaaaack' made Daniel blush and Rodney slap his hands over his ears. 

A particularly...strident note made them both wince.

“How about we forget this ever happened?” Daniel suggested with thinly veiled desperation, his voice strained.

_“YES,”_ Rodney agreed vehemently. Somewhere behind Daniel, Rodney caught a flash of unmentionables and whimpered.

“Good.”

“Great.”

Daniel stuffed his hands in his pockets and tried not to die of mortification. Was it just him, or was this particular dream hanging around for longer than all the others? Daniel winced as his onscreen persona let loose a stream of filthy curses in no less than twelve separate languages.

“I heard the Daedalus is bringing the whole of the Olympics on its next run,” Rodney offered urgently.

“Even the curling?” Daniel asked, desperately grateful for the change in conversation. The scene shifted, but they tried to ignore it.

“Curling is a fantastic sport steeped in history!” Rodney protested.

“Yes. I can see how ice sweeping would be essential to one's survival,” Daniel said sagely.

“You've obviously never been to Hoth,” Rodney sniffed.

Their conversation was interrupted by a deep male voice moaning 'Raawd-ney!' They continued to look at each other, carefully maintaining eye contact.

“Yeah Rodney, that's—fuck!” Rodney clenched his fists, willing himself not to look. He didn't _want_ to look. He'd already seen more of the Atlantis personnel in compromising positions with celebrities and coworkers to last him a lifetime. He *really* didn't want to see who he was making sound that way. In the way that he absolutely, positively needed to. In the worst of ways.

“Good, yesssss. Just like that. Rodney!”

Daniel was dying to look in the way that one had to look at a bad car wreck: you wanted to know what the cops weren't letting you see. Morbid human curiosity. He watched McKay, who hadn't broken eye contact but seemed to be itching to get his own glimpse, but unwilling to admit it first. They sized one another up.

“On five,” Daniel said. “One.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.” Their heads turned in tandem.

**“AAAHH!”** they yelled together, eyes snapping back front and center. Rodney stared at the center of Daniel's forehead while Daniel made a detailed study of Rodney's uniform jacket. It was in pretty good condition.

“We will never speak of this,” Rodney commanded.

“None of it,” Daniel agreed. “We're going to put it in a box and drop is at the bottom of the sea.”

“Where the pressure will destroy its internal integrity and compact the box and its contents into a very small, unthreatening pancake.” Rodney nodded. “And a whale will eat it.”

“A whale?”

“Named Sam. We have an understanding.” Daniel thought that made a twisted kind of sense.

Jesus, where the hell was the rescue team?

They suffered through more sex dreams about Sheppard, Ronon, and Teyla than either one of them wanted to contemplate. (Though Daniel had to admit, Rodney's snippy comments whenever Sheppard made an appearance were quite amusing. Anyone thought they were 'just friends' was living beyond mere denial and into delusion.) The scenes shifted, again and again, and Daniel wondered at the sheer creativity of people when it came to sex. Though the one who'd fantasized about the mop had been kind of scary. But after what had to be the thirtieth fantasy, Daniel was feeling desensitized.

“I think I'm developing a tolerance,” Rodney moaned, trying to block out the sounds of one of the female marines noisily fucking the hell out of Chuck's lesser half...Amoral? Amoeba? Barbie Gate Technician. The annoying one John always smiled at. He frowned, listening to a series of moans and gasps. He'd never heard a woman make that noise.

“Have you noticed they're all very...clean?” Daniel asked, anthropological hat firmly in place; he found it made the experience much better if he could pretend to think about these from a clinical, scientific perspective. Rodney, for his part, thought it was a sign of spending too much time together that he followed Daniel's logic and knew what he was talking about.

“Of course it's _clean._ It's perfect fantasy sex,” Rodney said caustically. “No mess, no awkward where-do-I-put-my-hands or you want to put that where?” 

Daniel slowly turned his head towards Rodney, eyebrow arched. He watched Rodney rewind his last comment, realize what he said, and run the gamut from 'oh shit I just said that' to 'too much information about my first gay freak out' and settle on 'I've seen your fantasies so THERE.' McKay had a point.

Daniel let his head rest back against the wall, jaded eyes watching a couple literally frolicking through strawberry fields. They needed popcorn.

Rodney couldn't even be embarrassed anymore; he'd used that up about ten sex-dream-fantasies ago. Rodney hung his head between his legs and caught a glimpse of side boob. The screens went black in the way that signaled a shift in scene and Rodney relished the momentary reprieve.

“I just don't know, Rodney,” a female voice trilled on screen.

“Oh my God, why does no one _tell_ me about these things?” Rodney demanded. “I, apparently, could've been having way more sex.” Daniel choked on a laugh.

“It's just, Ronon has muscles. And the dreads are kind of hot,” an incredibly vapid fantasy-Keller said. Rodney rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

“Oh please, like hair has ever made the man,” Rodney grumbled. Really, it was good that she generally kept her dreams to herself, because this was just disgusting.

“I think Sheppard would disagree,” Daniel pointed out (un)helpfully. This dream was like a bad soap opera. Keller stood between Ronon and Rodney, one had on each of their chests, glancing mournfully between the two of them.

“She is mine,” Ronon growled. He was wearing a tiny leather vest, and his pants were ridiculously tight, outlining _everything_.

“God, she's put Ronon in gay pants!” Rodney sniped.

“And yours aren't?” Daniel laughed. Rodney was dressed in a pair of clingy trousers that showcased his ass, and a thin white shirt with his nipples poking through. On-screen Rodney stepped up to Ronon.

“I challenge your claim,” dream-Rodney said bravely, striking a gallant pose.

“Oh _please_ ” Rodney scoffed derisively. “Like I would take on Ronon for her!”

Daniel shushed him and watched the fantasy. Keller was watching Rodney and Ronon grapple with each other in an extremely homoerotic way, their hands engaging in some gratuitous cupping that had nothing to do with fighting.

“Is that—”

“Yes,” Daniel preempted. Keller watched the two men fight from a throne-like chair, sighing and cheering them on in turns.

“I thought women had risen above this,” Rodney muttered. Ronon's vest tore down the middle, and his gay pants were rapidly unravelling at the seams.

“No one has risen above this,” Daniel said appreciatively. 

“Hey! I'm sitting _right here!_ ” Rodney protested.

“I was talking about Ronon,” Daniel said with an obtuse smile. Rodney harumphed and sulked in his corner. “I'm sorry, did you _want_ me to—”

“NO!” Rodney yelled, blushing. “It's just the principle of the matter. Besides, I'm more of your intellectual...not equal, I'm definitely smarter than you, but you're smarter than Ronon, and you'd want to at least be able to hold a scintillating conversation with your significant other and—”

“As scintillating as this one?”

The conversation was waylaid by a shift in scene. They both agreed, after watching the “star” of this most recent fantasy—some scientist named Mary Sue that Rodney couldn't remember ever seeing much less hiring, and was definitely fired after he got out of here—get propositioned by every male member of the expedition, professing their undying love and superiority to all others, that they would much rather have Keller's back

“We're calling this one _As Atlantis Turns,_ ” Rodney declared. Daniel rather thought _Passions: Atlantis_ would have ben more accurate what with the wraith coming down and promising to change their ways should Mary Sue just come and be their Queen, but Daniel knew what to pick his battles.

They cycled through four more dreams, which they named _Miko does the Military Contingent_ (Rodney was NOT going to get on her bad side), _Anderson and the Biting Kink of Doom_ (really, really disturbing), _Big People Need Love Too_ (they couldn't determine any genders, and Daniel hadn't wanted to discriminate), and _High School Hot Pants._ That last one had been the most boring example of sex either of them had ever seen; whoever had dreamed it up had to still be a virgin, because that kind of sex was juvenile and, more importantly, NOT FUN. The long, slow thrusts, a lot of staring into each other's eyes, sweet nothings murmured sappily in each other's ears. 'I love you' made it in there more than once. The entire scenario had Rodney and Daniel rolling their eyes at one another.

The clincher, though, the one that pushed them both over the line and straight to Insanity without passing go, was Sheppard and the Potted Plant.

“I just... _whose is it?_ ”

“Sheppard's?” Daniel suggested, just to get a rise out of Rodney, who obliged and started spluttering indignantly, tongue tying itself in knots.

“It's not—he wouldn't...I know—I bet it's one of those _botanists_ ,” Rodney concluded bitterly, glaring at the plant that was, impossibly, dancing with John. John held the plant close and stroked its leafy branches. “I distinctly remember that plant being dead.”

Daniel was about to respond when the wall went out from behind them, the room going dark. Rodney and Daniel both tumbled onto their backs. Sheppard and Zelenka appeared in their line of sight, floating heads that were not idealize sexed-up versions of the real thing.

“Hey guys,” Sheppard drawled with a smirk.

“We have wasted much time rescuing you,” Zelenka grumped, hair awry. 

Daniel and Rodney looked at their rescuers, then at each other, and burst into hysterical laughter.

Atlantis would never look the same again.


End file.
